New Start
by AvalonXNaruto
Summary: AU Harry Potter, where he was raised in America. He's attitude is darker, but not towards a brilliant witch for reasons he can't explain. Ron Bashing and a look into a different House. Begins with first book/film and moves forward. The first chapter is set in 1996, for my own reasons.
1. Meeting Her

Harry once again found himself staring at the bushy haired witch in front of him. She had just fixed his glasses and he was truly grateful for that. The eleven year old had introduced herself as Hermione Granger, even though he already knew who she was.

A few week prior while shopping at Diagon Ally he had bumped into her while picking out books. Of course at the time he was dressed radically different than the too large plaid shirt and baggy jeans that he was wearing now. Hermione first saw him in black jeans with rips and tears, a black tight fit shirt with a red denim vest, and a far gloomier expression.

"You look familiar." She stated after they had been on the train for an hour or so.

"Is that so?" He was lazy with the question as it slurred off his tongue. Though he was intrigued on why she claimed that considering he was famous here in the wizarding world.

"Yes, oh! I know, I saw you getting your books for class right?"

Her hazel eyes widened with realization and a sly smile graced her lips. The tilt of her head was just enough for the socially-declined boy to admit that it was cute.

"Well, you're not wrong. But, look at the cover of the book you're reading." He pointed a long finger at the book that was laid open in her lap.

She did as he said and read the title again _The Boy Who Lived._ He smirked when her mouth opened a bit and her pretty eyes flickered back and forth from the cover to the strange boy sitting in front of her.

"You-you're- you're him. The boy who lived, Harry Potter?"

"Yes."

She than put the book down and smiled at him. Harry was worried that she would turn into another one of those fan-girls like Ginny Weasly.

"Than this book is full of rubbish!" She proclaimed before laughing. "Never thought I would say that about a book."

Harry's small smile grew into a genuine one that he felt fit well on his face, even though he has never smiled this way before in his short life time.

"I'm glad you-"

He was interrupted by a red headed boy barging through the cabin's slim door. His eyes where frantic and Hermione was slowly pushing herself further into the back corner.

"What do you want?" Harry's words were cold, the way he normally addressed his peers.

"Can I sit here? All the other cabins are full." He claimed with an odd smile on his face.

"Then where have you been for the last hour of our journey?" Hermione perked up. Not trusting a word coming from his lips.

"Uh, well I was-" His large hand rubbed the back of his neck in a manner that told both previous occupants that he was nervous.

"Leave and find some were else to sit." Harry glared at the boy.

With that the red-head scurried off and the cabin fell into a peaceful silence. The brilliant young witch pulled another book out of her nap-sack and then offered one for her new friend to read as well. Harry was surprised by the simple offer and gave her another smile.

"What books do you have, Hermione?" The young wizard loving how her name felt on his tongue.

"Quite a few different types. What do you normally read?" She smiled back and leaned forward a bit.

He wasn't sure how to answer her. How was he going to explain that he didn't really know since he was rarely given anything to read?

"Surprise me." He stated leaning in as well.

A minute later he was staring at the cover of a leather-bound novel with Hermione smirking at him; her hands covering her mouth as she attempted to contain her laughter. The book title baring up at him _the Perks of Being a Wallflower. _

Ironically enough this was one of the few books he has read and he smirked back at her. The book being placed onto her lap with a simple statement.

"Try again, 'Mione."

Her eyes blinked a few times in surprise of the nickname. No one has ever given her one before, well nothing nice that is. She fumbled around in her bag for a second before realizing many of her other no-fiction books where stashed in her trunk.

"Why don't you give that one a try?"

"Already read it." His voice lower, as if hoping she wouldn't hear him.

Hermione couldn't get over how strange this boy was. From his American accent, the bazar clothing when they first met, to defending them from the liar, and now to have already read one of her favorite books.

They discussed the novel until arriving at the station where they disembarked, but never stayed more than a few feet from each other at most.

"All first years follow me please." Hagrid hollered after the new students gathered before the half-giant.

Harry grinned when he saw Hermione's reaction to the large man. Her eyes grew comically wide and Harry just chuckled slightly at his bushy haired friend.


	2. Physical contact and Ghosts

**Wow! I'm so glad so many people like this story. Please keep reading and thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favorites.**

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"Mind your step, now!" Hagrid called over his shoulder. "It's just around this bend here."

The group of first years came to a stop on the dark sands leading into a great black lake. Many gave appreciative whispers at the magnificent view of the Scottish castle that would soon become their home for the next year. The towers and turrets reaching into the starry sky.

"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid called over to the young wizards as he pointed towards a fleet of small boats resting along the shore line.

Harry and Hermione silently agreed to grab the last boat in the fleet since all the other students were scrambling to get into a boat with their friends. Once settled a boy walked over to their boat holding a small toad.

"May I sit with you?" The boy's nerves getting the better of him as he almost stuttered the question.

"Of course." Hermione smiled at him. "I'm Hermione and this is Harry."

"I'm Neville and this is Trever."

As soon as their new companion sat down Harry turned to face the front of the boat without any emotion crossing his features. Hermione on the other hand began chatting with Neville, who seemed delighted to have someone to talk to besides his toad. Although she had to admit, to herself any way, that it was still easier to talk to Harry and talking to Neville felt wrong somehow.

The boats set off soon enough and the first years drifted slowly to their new home and academy. Harry not saying a single word during the short voyage which caused Hermione to get a bit agitated at his behavior. She of course thought it had to do with Harry's dislike of most people, excluding herself that is.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Fine." He bit out, regretting his tone instantly.

They fell into a weird silence that Neville could tell was practically palpable. The air seemed to grow thicker around the two and he was thankful that they were pulling up to a small dock connected to the school.

The group followed a tall witch with pitch-black hair through the long gothic hallways. Her green robes flowing behind her. Hagrid had introduced her as Professor McGonagall and both Hermione and Harry where curious on what course she would teach them.

They quickly found themselves in front of two grand doors that must have been at least as tall as the Dursleys' house. Harry flinched at the memory of those retched people. This did not go unnoticed by Hermione who, beside his strange behavior, still stayed close to him. She didn't question it though seeing as it was neither the proper place nor time.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." The professor gave a grand gesture to the surrounding atrium. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. These Houses will become your family while attending Hogwarts, so please take care of how important this ceremony is."

There was a serious silence that fell over the group as they took in this information. Harry was as indifferent as ever, but was hoping that he would be placed into the same House as Hermione. She was wishing the same thing, but knew that Harry would probably end up as a Gryffindor.

Professor McGonagall then went on to explain how House points where distributed and taken away for different acts, along with the reward of the House Cup at the end of the academic year. Once through she advised that they _'smarten up'_ or clean themselves up a bit before they were presented in front of the entire school and its faculty.

Hermione looked around the room at the state of some of her peers, ashamed to see the state that some of them where in. The rude red-head had a large smudge of dirt across his freckled nose. Neville's robes were crooked, but he quickly fixed that and smoothed out his hair to the best of his ability. Then her eyes gravitated to the boy next to her.

His hair was slightly tussled and his cloak that was fastened on his left shoulder. He glanced around the room with a frown marring his face. Hermione decided in that moment that she didn't like him frowning for any reason and went about fixing his cloak.

Sharp eyes fixed upon her hands that unfastened the button before sliding the garment into the appropriate position. Her hands nimbly brushed off something that was on his shoulder before they found themselves in his hair. Harry flinched away and her hand recoiled onto her chest as she took a small step backwards.

"Sorry, Harry." She mumbled, not meeting her gaze.

He didn't know how to respond. The only other physical contact he had experienced had come from the neglect and abuse of his uncle, aunt, and cousin. So, the gentle fingers fixing his hair and brushing his chest confused him. Harry knew 'Mione would never hurt him. It was a trust that he was not familiar with as he has never trusted anyone before.

"Don't worry about it, 'Mione." He whispered just load enough for her to hear.

She glanced back up him and gave him a shy smile. Then her head tilted slightly to the right, a gesture Harry was quickly learned that it meant she was seriously thinking about something.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Just that in _Hogwarts a History_ claimed that there where a multitude of ghosts that roam the halls, but I haven't seen a single one since we entered."

Harry's eyes opened a bit at the unusual prospect of the dead haunting a school. Although, before he could even formulate a response many of the other students screamed and a gasp escaped the lips of those not screaming, or in one case fainting. Approximantly twenty ghosts had just flown through the back wall. They flew over the crowd, not even noticing the new students.

Once they had passed through the Great Hall's doors Professor McGonagall walked swiftly back into the room to collect them for the march into the hall.


	3. Surprises and Anxiety

"Now form a line and follow me."

Silently the first years formed a long line. Harry found himself behind Hermione, who was behind Neville. The red-headed-bigot was behind him, an aura of oppressed frustration seeping from him. They soon walked through the grand double-doors and into the Great Hall.

Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were littered with shimmering golden plates and goblets. At the end of the Hall sat another long table where the teachers were talking amongst themselves. Professor McGonagall led the first years to stand in front of this raised table. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candle-light. Dotted among the students the ghosts shone a haunting misty silver. Mainly to avoid the staring eyes, Harry looked up-ward and saw the velvety black ceiling speckled with stars clearer than he had ever seen in the city.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_." Hermione whispered just loud enough for him to hear. It was almost impossible to believe that there was a ceiling there at all and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the Heavens.

Harry quickly looked down again to see the Professor placing a brown, worn, pointed wizard's hat on top of a wooden stool. He scoffed at the notion that his Aunt would have never allowed such a filthy thing into her _perfect_ house.

_Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it_, Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing - noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffis are true and unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again, as if the whole thing never happened.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" The bigot muttered. His voice irking Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. He was just annoyed and uncomfortable in front of all these people.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw as well, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindors, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

By this point Harry hand zoned out and was picking dirt from under his fingernails. That is until he felt someone bump him from behind. The red-head had been called and as much as he would deny it, harry was intrigued. The boy, now known as Ron Weasley, was quickly sorted into Gryffindor and joined his brothers.

Finally it came down to the last three students. Hermione, Harry, and a smug looking boy with slicked-back blond hair. Hermione gave him a small smile.

"Malfoy, Draco."

Draco walked up to the stool and placed the hat on his head. Just like everyone else it covered his eyes.

"Ravenclaw!"

"What! No! I'm supposed to be in Slytherin!" Draco yelled. The outburst resonating through the Hall.

"I am never wrong, child!"

With that Professor McGonagall lifted the hat off of the indignant boy's head. He practically stomped his way over to his new House. He plopped down onto one of the benches, distancing himself from everyone else at the table. With one last glance in his direction the Professor called out a name that Harry had been wanting to hear since he found out about the sorting.

"Granger, Hermione!"

The young intellect walked softly up the steps. Her bushy hair bouncing lightly with every step. Once seated she gave Harry a nervous smile. McGonagall placed the hat on her head. Hermione's hair was so bushy that the rim only fell just above her eyes.

"Interesting." The hat muttured.

Hermione began to internally freak out. Her eyes found Harry's and she found herself relaxing, if only slightly. Time ticked away slowly and the students began to get anxious.

"Ravenclaw!"

The House erupted into a loud applause and Hermione almost floated to the table while beaming at Harry with relief. She sat next in between Draco and another first-year, making sure that there was another place for Harry to sit if he was chosen for the same house. The gesture made the corners of Harry's lips turn up just enough for her to see that he was grateful.

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train? He swallowed hard at the thought of going back to the Dursly's.

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires throughout the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Not with the Weasley boy or Slytherin_. _Put me with Hermione._

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and he could help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you're sure - better be RAVENCLAW!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and almost swaggered over to the empty seat Hermione had reserved for him. He was so relieved to have been chosen and to be in the same House as his new friend, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. One of the older boys walked over to him and outstretched his hand.

"I'm Prefect Robert Hilliard, welcome to Ravenclaw."

Harry shook his hand only after Hermione gave him a scary look that claimed that he better be civil or else. He didn't know why she had such an effect on him considering he hardly ever did anything that his peers told him to or anyone for that matter.

He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harry spotted Professor Quirell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

**Sorry this took forever for me to update. Life tends to get in the way. This chapter is dedicated to my Best Friend ever. Thank you again for all the support and patients.**

**Please review and thank you for reading.**


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